


Zero-Sum Game

by HermaiaMoira



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Asshole Caning, BDSM, Barefoot Will, Caning, JustFuckMeUp, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, Top!Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:15:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7161923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermaiaMoira/pseuds/HermaiaMoira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will wants to humiliate Hannibal to even the playing field. Hannibal agrees to right the score, but finds that he rather enjoys giving Will the upper hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zero-Sum Game

**Author's Note:**

> I have a severe kink for asshole caning, but I've never written about it in a fic before. In honor of #JustFuckMeUp Kinkfest, I've decided to amend that.

“We are still not in equal standing.”

Hannibal stared at his sauté pan thoughtfully.

“Has our score card for attempted murder not added up?”

“I’m not talking about murder,” Will replied. “I’m talking about subjugation… humiliation.”

“I’ve never thought of you as beneath me, Will. You are unique in that regard.”

Will swirled his aperitif. From the moment he and Hannibal had joined to slay the dragon, two minds thinking as one and moving together through nonverbal communication as pack predators, they had achieved a truly egalitarian domesticity. For the first time they shared knowing silence more often than conversation. Even so, the albatross of the past hung around his neck.

“You claimed ownership of my mind and body,” he explained. “You set my brain on fire, drugged me, penetrated me with a feeding tube, and pulled my insides out both figuratively and literally. I only subjugated you in my fantasies.”

“In your fantasies?”

He turned his face toward Will, his brows raised with piqued interest. Hannibal was not above revealing his somewhat narcissistic desire to know every thought Will hoarded about him in the deepest corners of his still obscured imagination.

“For only a moment,” Will murmured, drawing close to his ear, “I would like to have you at my complete disposal.”

Hannibal could not resist Will when he brought out his “pretty pleases.” They both knew it, and that was probably enough to restore, if not overtake any loss of power on Will’s part. Regardless, he didn’t have any desire to argue. He felt his lower belly quiver at the ideas running though his mind of what his partner intended. It was clear when he did nothing more than relax his body as Will pulled him off of the cliff, that every limb of his form belonged to him. Out of some remaining pride, he chose to simply nod instead of falling to his knees at Will’s feet.

After dinner, Will went barefoot, feet padding on the carpet in the way that Hannibal had come to realize he liked. He thought the man looked elegant in repose, with his high arches stepping and his shirt sleeves rolled and secured at his elbows. He had a placid determination on his face, tossing his attention around the room until he decided on the polished bamboo wand from a window blind. He unscrewed it and flicked it through the air with a stately flair of his wrist. Hannibal watched the restrained pleasure on Will’s face and felt the stirring in his belly increase.

“Do you plan on punishing me physically, Will?”

He tried to keep his tone flippant even as his throat tightened and his cock began to swell at the thought of righteous Will thrashing him for all of his sins, standing victorious over his shivering body.

“Pain is only a vehicle,” Will mused, “To highlight the psychological effects of domination.”

Hannibal appreciated the excuse to emotionally categorize what he was experiencing. The prurient aspects were hard to ignore. He lusted after Will. He had always been a man of lust and whims, and he felt no shame in that, but Will sent him into a delirious duality of intellectual and physical hunger that he had never experienced. He wanted him in every possible way and it was becoming harder and harder to cope with the intensity. Perhaps catharsis through pain was exactly what he needed.

“Take off your clothes,” Will ordered and there was a sternness in his voice that almost brought out an audible whine from Hannibal’s chest, “All of them.”

He stripped away the topmost layer of his human suit. For now, the rest remained. He stood straight before Will as the man circled him gripping the makeshift cane and scanning his body with quicksilver eyes. Hannibal felt his head lower a bit, his posture weakening under his gaze. He was already feeling the psychological effect.

“Spread your legs.”

He obeyed. Will was behind him and as he strolled around again Hannibal’s cock only rose further. As of yet, he was unsure of whether or not Will felt the same carnal hunger for him. There was no use taking that into consideration now that this aspect of his feelings for him was so apparent. Will would know now and forever that Hannibal wanted him and that he specifically wanted _this_. Here was the point of no return.

Will issued a sniff and a smirk when he saw the man’s erection. It caused Hannibal to lift his head again, to wear it proudly. He was an unabashed hedonist, why should today be any different?

“Lift your arms,” he instructed, the natural creak in his voice becoming more prominent as it fell another octave. “Put them behind your head.”

Hannibal did, stretching his upper body muscles and tensing his stomach. Will seemed pleased. He admired his body, still lean and graceful in middle age. He passed around again and observed his clinched shoulder blades and the curve of his backside.

“Bend over, grab your ankles.”

Hannibal’s eyelids fluttered as he felt a head rush. He kept his feet apart as he bent. He heard a soft exhale behind him and tried to maintain his balance through the dizziness. Then he felt fingers touching him; nails scraping over his upper thighs and exposed underside of his lifted ass.

“On your knees.”

Hannibal had often dreamed of kissing Will’s bare feet; of washing them with perfume and tears. He lowered to his knees and gazed up at him, tenderness in his usually shark-like eyes. Will pulled at Hannibal’s jaw, opening his mouth. He inserted two fingers and cocked his head as he watched Hannibal allow it. He pushed the fingers inside, pressing on his tongue until he choked.

“Good,” he purred, “Don’t resist me.”

He pulled out his fingers and Hannibal licked his lips. His eyes instinctively drifted to Will’s trousers and he saw that a bulge was swelling. His mouth watered at the thought of Will choking him with his cock, using his mouth and throat as a device for his pleasure.

“Put your head down on the floor. Keep your hips raised in obeisance.”

Hannibal did, as his arms and legs beginning to tremble. Will moved behind him again. Hannibal’s knees were spread, his ass up, throbbing cock and tightening scrotum visible between his legs. A strand of precum seeped to the floor.

“You will continue to put up no resistance,” Will told him. “You will open yourself for me and show nothing but eagerness to receive whatever I give you.”

That would be no performance on Hannibal’s part. His eagerness was obvious.

“Reach back,” he continued. “Pull yourself apart and do not release until I tell you.”

When he spread his cheeks with his palms he felt hot shame flood over his collar, throat, and face. He wasn’t tied or forced, he was doing this of his own accord, and that only made it more humiliating. He could only imagine how he looked, cock dripping and asshole twitching as he put himself on display like a whore. The debasement was exhilarating. He turned his face to the side as Will approached his head again. He saw him adjust the cane in his fingers and now he couldn’t stifle a whimper.

“Keep your ass up and ready,” Will growled. “I do not want to have to stop and nag.”

Will dragged the thin bamboo rod along Hannibal’s crevice, the untouched sensitive skin an inviting target. He grinned at the way his hole quivered, part from fear and part from yearning. He was enjoying this more than he had anticipated, and not only from the satisfaction of putting the man in his place and returning the favor of dehumanizing bodily control. His swollen erection was pressing against the front of his pants and becoming uncomfortable.

Almost in retaliation for his own growing discomfort, he lifted the cane and brought it down with a sharp snap against Hannibal’s ass hole. The man hissed and lurched forward a bit but didn’t give up his position. Will struck again, and Hannibal snarled and bit his lip.

Will took on a power stance with his own legs spread as he rained down three consecutive blows. Hannibal’s voice heightened and his hands shook as he desperately grasped himself. Will loved the way he writhed. Even more, he loved how he obeyed. He straddled his arched back, running the cane vertically along his reddening crack. He brought it down, lighter but faster against him until Hannibal was pumping his hips and bleating.

The careful sophistication and dignity Hannibal had maintained was lost. Now he was a cowering sycophant, exposing himself for his master’s abuse and practically thanking him for it. Finally his hands slipped on his sweating skin and Will paused. He quickly grappled to regain his composure and waited anxiously as Will stared down at him, quiet and vibrating with energy.

“Sorry,” Hannibal whispered. Will maintained Silence.

Hannibal could feel the heat of his reproachful gaze.

“Please… continue,” he said.

Will’s breath quavered and when Hannibal lifted his eyes he could see him passing his tongue over his bottom lip and grinning with white fangs. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to bear how enthralled he was.

“Spread wider,” came the next command. “I want to hit my mark.”

Hannibal opened his knees further and dug his fingers into his cheeks until his bare hole was unobstructed. When the cane struck him directly on it, his whimpers grew to vocal growls and soft cries. His voice emerged in the broken gibberish of pain-response. Now he was humping and thrusting, his testicles swaying between his legs and his cock brushing against his belly.

The sharp stings of the cane melded into a constant, horrible burn. He was only in the moment now, bearing the humiliation and torture and forgetting anything about score cards and power struggles. In this moment, he couldn’t feel more owned.

“Will…,” he eventually moaned, “Please…”

It was an involuntary plea for mercy, but when Will responded without stopping his assault, “Please what?” he answered, “Don’t stop.”

The strikes were more erratic now as Will’s arousal increased. Sometimes he struck directly on Hannibal’s ass hole, sometimes glancing a cheek or snapping the tip of the rod on the seam behind his testicles. The man was crying.

When Will finally stopped Hannibal sniveled and continued to tremble and wriggle from the persistent burn. His crevice and inner cheeks were red with welts and his ass hole was puckered and inflamed.

“Thank you,” he sniffed.

Will dropped the cane and pushed Hannibal’s hands away, grasping his posterior to get a better look. He fell to his knees above Hannibal’s back, his erection pressing against his spine as he observed his work. The older man stayed still, head buzzing with euphoria as he crouched submissively under the weight of his partner.

Will rose and went into the bedroom where he grabbed some hand cream from Hannibal’s dresser. He returned to find the man still in position as he had ordered. He chuckled and knelt behind him scooping a dollop of cream onto his fingers.

The cold lotion both soothed and shocked him. He gasped and pushed himself out as Will probed and lubricated him. When Will pulled out his own cock it was a relief. The head had grown sensitive with friction. He was in no way gentle when he sank it inside of him.

Hannibal cried out, his swollen and tender opening stretched painfully. His noises of distress evolved into keening pleasure as Will fucked him forcefully, repeatedly. Every thrust rocked him forward and he clutched desperately for leverage against the carpet. There was nothing to hold onto, so he resigned himself to Will grasping his hips with digging fingers and holding him in place to be savaged.

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” Hannibal repeated, eyes watering. It filled him with gratification to realize that Will was the only person who he would ever allow to know him like this; to see him broken on the floor and hear his cries of unrestrained lust.

Will sounded very much like an amalgamation of man and beast. Both of them had shed their person suits. When he came he collapsed on top of Hannibal, pushing into his flattened body and biting into his shoulder. Hannibal shuddered as he felt the hot fluid pour into him.

“We’re even,” Will whispered into his ear, his tone rumbling and satisfied.

Hannibal lay beneath him, sweating and quivering, sore and blissfully degraded. He murmured his agreement but, in truth, he did not wish to be even. He wished to be used like this again and again, descending into depravity. Perhaps it was time to tilt the score once again and provoke his love into retaliation over and over on a maddening continuum.

After all, the game was always an integral part of his addiction.


End file.
